


You Think You're Cursed

by georgiamagnolia



Series: ABBA/Foothills [115]
Category: ABBA/Foothills, The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: ABBA/Foothills series, Established Relationship, Gen, Hauntings, M/M, Sequel, borrowing Spikesgirl58's characters again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26660959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgiamagnolia/pseuds/georgiamagnolia
Summary: After clearing the ghosts haunting Taste and Illya & Napoleon's home, Del can't rest. A Sequel to Hole in Your Soul.
Relationships: Illya Kuryakin/Napoleon Solo
Series: ABBA/Foothills [115]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/21516
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	You Think You're Cursed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spikesgirl58](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/gifts), [sparky955](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparky955/gifts).



> This is a gift for Spikesgirl58 and the Queen of Pink, thanks for letting me play in the sandbox again. xoxo

Napoleon hurried down the stairs and to the front door. After checking the identity of the guest, he unlocked and opened the door. “Madeline, what’s wrong, did you forget something?”

A very disheveled young woman looked at him with wide eyes, “Napoleon, we have a problem…”

It had already been a long day and longer night, everyone in the house was exhausted except perhaps the felines who were never bothered by the issues the humans experienced unless it interfered with their feeding time. 

“Which kind of problem, a ‘you’ problem or a ‘we’ problem?” Napoleon asked as he led Del inside and locked the door again. He ushered her to the couch and sat her down where the cats immediately filled her lap with warmth and shedding fur. He held up a finger indicating she should wait a moment and he went to the kitchen and brought back the pitcher of water from the refrigerator. She smiled her thanks before she drank down the glass he poured for her. 

“If you mean a woo-woo problem or a real world/something you can fix problem, it’s a me problem. There is someone in your upstairs apartment, Napoleon.”

Illya had entered just in time to hear the last part of that and turned to start for the front door when Napoleon called him back, “Not a corporeal visitor you can evict, partner.” He raised a brow at Del to confirm he understood her correctly. She nodded.

Illya turned back and sat on the arm of the couch over Napoleon, leaned on him and looked a question at Madeline.

“I was explaining to Napoleon earlier that there’s more than one kind of haunt in the world and sadly if they are a memory of events from the past they can’t be evicted the way actual trapped spirits can. The woman upstairs from your wine shop is that sort. There is no appeasing a memory,” Del sighed. Napoleon and Illya looked at one another, a charged moment that Del didn’t see as she was occupied by the cats in her lap.

“Is there anything we can or should do?” Illya, usually the more practical of the partners, asked. After the last few days, he was ready to give the benefit of the doubt to Del and whatever she reported would be taken at face value, she had earned his trust.

“Sadly, no. If you decide to open a bed and breakfast you might consider renting only to men though. The woman up there is loudly vocal about her cheating husband and the gunshots are unsettling.”

“What?” Illya and Napoleon asked almost in unison.

“The imprint of this woman’s last act seems to be a murder/suicide, she took out her rival and then herself, and if I have recognized the era correctly it was some time in the 1920s. You live in a very violent neighborhood, speaking strictly spiritually.” Del looked at her now empty glass as if she didn’t remember emptying it. Napoleon took it from her and refilled it. She drank most of it before speaking again. “I hate to be an imposition, but I can’t sleep through the gunfire. It just doesn’t stop. The memory is on constant repeat, I have no idea why none of you have noticed it, some of you should have heard it by now.”

“Winston has never mentioned anything, but perhaps he isn’t sensitive, and Napoleon has never slept at Vinea,” Illya said. “In any case we have a perfectly functional guest room.” 

“I didn’t want to cramp your style,” Del smiled slyly, “knowing that you might want to have a celebratory evening.”

“Oh, but my dear,” Napoleon smiled back just as sly, “sometimes the fun is in the, ah, restraint.”

“Blockhead,” Illya muttered. Then said, “Escort Del back to Vinea to get her overnight things while I find her some clean towels.” Under his breath he said, “I’ll show you restraints with your ridiculous tie collection…” and continued his quiet tirade as he left the room.

There wasn’t much to retrieve but Napoleon picked up the overnight bag while Del hurried to scoop up the candle she had lit, snuffing it quickly with licked fingers and throwing her jar of salt in her satchel as carefully as she could. She jumped when the gunshots rang out, even though she knew they were coming. Napoleon was unfazed and there was no indication he heard the screaming woman or the cries of the dying. 

Outside again, Napoleon took Del’s arm to guide her over the gravel of the parking lot. He could feel a slight tremble in her. “I’m so sorry, Madeline, I can’t hear anything up there.”

“No need to be sorry, I’m glad you can’t hear it. It’s unpleasant.”

“I hope this won’t keep you from visiting us in future.”

“Of course not, Napoleon, I’m a bad penny who will show up at every opportunity.” She grinned up at him as they entered the house again.

“We’ll hold you to that. You are welcome in our home any time you want.”

Napoleon locked the door and turned to find Del regarding him with a serious face. “I appreciate that, Napoleon, more than I can say.”

He just smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “You’re family now and we take care of our own.”

“Yes we do, now come this way,” Illya said from behind her, taking the bag Napoleon was holding and leading Del to the guest room here he deposited her things before showing her to the well appointed guest bath where he had in fact drawn a hot bath. “I hope you don’t mind that lavender is all I had for the bath, I use it when I can’t sleep.” Illya didn’t betray any embarrassment at owning flowery bath oil. 

“I am not complaining at all, I love lavender.” She smiled at him, “Thank you, this is above and beyond kind.”

“Not at all, you have done us a great service as well as kindness.” Illya found himself returning her smile. He reached up a hand and laid it on her shoulder, “If ever we can help you, you have only to ask.”

Her replied thank you was soft and Illya smiled at her again. “Enjoy, my dear. We won’t be up early but the coffee is on a timer so feel free to help yourself if you wake up before us, but I insist that you join us for brunch, if you don’t have to leave early?”

She shook her head, “I don’t even have to check my calendar, I’m in.”

“Sleep well. And you might want to shut the door or the cats will sleep on your head.”

“That’s the best offer I’ve had in years,” she laughed.


End file.
